


Pretty Sad Boys

by Sam_Haine



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kissing, Lifeguard Billy Hargrove, M/M, No Shadow Monster | Mind Flayer, Sad Steve Harrington, Scoops Ahoy (Stranger Things), Smoking, Soft Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington's Scoops Ahoy Uniform, Stranger Things 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:53:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24312313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Haine/pseuds/Sam_Haine
Summary: Steve's Dad gets violent and Billy notices the bruise.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 3
Kudos: 304





	Pretty Sad Boys

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something I woke up in the middle of the night to write. Lol. Hope you enjoy.

Pretty Sad Boys 

"Dad, c'mon it's been two weeks. Can I use my car now?" 

Mr John Harrington doesn't bother to hide the nuisance on his face as Steve dares to speak while he read the paper. 

"I've already told you Steven, I'm doing it for your own good." 

Steve scoffs, tightening the laces on his Nikes. "How is walking to work everyday for my own good?" 

"Oh honey, that nice new kid has been taking you to work these past few days." Judy Harrington comments unhelpfully. 

Steve rolls his eyes. "I need my car. Billy won't be able to give me a ride every morning. He works in shifts." 

John grits his teeth, slamming the paper down on the coffee table. 

"Then maybe you should've thought about working hard enough to get into Tech instead of wasting my time and money at high school."

"What?"

The man rises to his feet, cornering Steve at the door with his intimidating stature, hands perched on his waist. 

"You heard me boy. You failed every test, you didn't even graduate with honours and now you're working at some minimum wage job at the mall, scooping ice-cream. And you think you're entitled to the car that my money bought for you?" 

Steve swallows, taking a step back and fighting tears while he's at it. "You weren't around! What was I supposed to do? I was a dumb kid with a big house to myself every day of the week-"

"Watch your tone with me boy!" John snarls, pointing a finger in Steve's face. 

"You never even came to parent-teacher conferences! I made the basketball team on my own and you couldn't even bother to show up for one game! You were never there!" 

"I was too busy giving you the rich life you boast so much about you ungrateful son of a bitch!" John spits, incensed. 

Steve gets choked up on a sob but he doesn't hold back. "No you were too busy screwing your secretaries to even be bothered about me-" 

He hears the smack before he even feels it, head turning to the side with the force John had put behind it. He hears the sound of a shocked gasp, unsure of whether it belonged to him or his mother. His left ear rung, a slow heat building around the area. He could feel the aftershocks of his father's hand on his cheek, face throbbing painfully as a tear slipped from his eye. 

"You will not disrespect me in my own house! And don't even think about getting that car back! You hear me!" 

The rumbling of the Camaro's engine right at that moment is a God-send and Steve wastes no time in booking it, wincing at the loud slam of the door behind him. He could hear his father's loud shouting berating him as he stalks stiffly to the car. He quickly gets into the passenger side and shuts the door. 

"Hey sailor boy." Billy grins, oogling Steve's Scoops Ahoy uniform from behind his shades. 

Steve tries his best to hold in his emotion, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. 

"Can we just go?" 

Billy seems to take the hint, pulling out of his driveway and onto the street. He takes one last pull of his cigarette before tossing it out the window. The radio is actually playing at a tolerable volume than usual, the easy notes of Tears For Fears' 'Everybody Wants to Rule The World' filling the awkward silence between them. He can feel Billy's eyes on him occasionally, attention flickering between him and the road ahead. 

"Where's Dustin?" He asks dumbly, trying to regain some sense of normalcy. 

Billy scoffs. "You've been in my car for fifteen minutes now and you're just realising that the kid isn't here?" 

Steve huffs, looking out the window. "I just-"

"He caught a ride with Nancy and Johnathan. Why's your face all red?" 

Steve blanches at that, purposely keeping his head faced at the window, trying to hide. It's useless because Billy's seen it, but he does anyway. 

"It's- ...nothing." 

"Oh yeah? Don't look like nothing to me, pretty boy." Billy counters coolly, voice low and raspy. Steve bites his lip to keep it from quivering. He cries easily- sue him. 

"I'm fine." He insists, now hyper-aware of the redness of his cheek. God, Billy wasn't stupid. And Steve was a terrible liar. 

"You've got a red hand-print across your face that's already starting to bruise and blood on your nose and you're fine?" 

"Blood?" Steve startles, tilting the rearview mirror to check his face. He does in fact have a dark stain of dried blood peeking out from just under his left nostril. His heart pounds hard in his chest as he fixes back the mirror. God, he's never been so fucking embarrassed in his life before. Well- he probably has, but that's nothing compared to what he's feeling now. 

"Here," Billy mutters, handing over a napkin without looking in Steve's direction. 

Steve hesitates before he accepts it, an annoying wetness springing to his eyes. Why the hell was Billy being so nice to him? He wasn't some charity case for kindness. He didn't want anyone's pity. And he sure as hell wasn't going to cry like the little bitch his father had always said he was. 

"You get nosebleeds a lot? Or was it because you got smacked?" Billy suddenly asks quietly, still not looking him in the eyes, hyper-focused on the road ahead. 

Steve rolls his eyes, holding the napkin just under his nose to wipe away most of the blood. The way Billy talks gives him the feeling that maybe he's been on this rodeo before. Max had confided in him a couple times that her stepfather wasn't exactly the nicest man. She hadn't explicitly told him about the beatings but he could read between the lines. He wasn't about to monopolize abuse, it wasn't fair to Billy. 

"I just get nosebleeds a lot." He mutters finally, wincing at the crack in his voice. It wasn't a lie he'd told- he always got nosebleeds easily whether it had been from a hard smack to the face or working out too excessively. It was something that just happened. On this particular occasion however, he knew that it had been because of his Dad. 

"And I'm possessed by a demon that's trying to kill everyone." Billy deadpans. 

"What d'you want me to say Billy?" Steve retorts but his tone lacks conviction. He's just tired and about one breath away from bursting into tears. 

Billy shrugs, fingers tapping out an idle tune on the steering wheel. "Who hit you?"

"Why d'you care?" 

"I don't." 

"Then stop asking." 

"Why?" 

"Because-" 

"Was it your Dad?" 

Steve glares at him through glassy eyes, plush pink lower lip trembling. He's about to fucking cry and he'd be damned if it was in front of Billy fucking Hargrove. 

"Let me out, I can walk from here." He mutters, unbuckling his seat belt. Billy pulls over on the side of the road but keeps the doors locked. He sighs heavily, eyes closed behind his shades. 

"Steve-"

"The fuck are you doing Hargrove? Let me out!" 

"Hey! Calm down." 

"Let me the fuck out now!" 

Billy reaches over and pulls Steve's hand by the wrist, away from the door handle. The brunette struggles in his strong grip, trying to yank his hand away, the sobs coming in short bursts of choking breaths. Billy couldn't believe that he was being the calm one here but he maintains his resolve even as Steve fights him. 

"Let me go!"

"Steve, look at me. Look at me!" He demands firmly, hating the way Steve flinches at his harsh tone. He keeps those pretty doe-eyes down, refusing to meet Billy's ocean blues. But that's okay, Billy decides, tracing the shiny tears that finally spill over. Steve whimpers, face screwing up as he weakly pulls away from Billy's hold. He buries his face in his hands, tortured and ragged sobs finally breaking through his façade. Billy just sits there, heart beating in his throat and his fists clenched as his emotions crash over him like a violent storm. He'd expected it to be awkward when Steve finally admitted to what had happened with his Dad, but what he didn't expect was the terrifying rage and equally terrifying protectiveness that suddenly grabs a hold of him. It's like a choking grip that refuses to let him breathe until he reaches for Steve again, touches his shoulder carefully, hoping that he'd let him in. 

"Hey," he murmurs, softer this time and much more calmly. "Hey pretty boy, look at me. Please? 

Steve wipes at his face furiously, glaring up at him with all the rage of a frightened deer. He looks so distraught and terrified that it breaks something in Billy's chest. He tightens his grip on Steve's shoulder, holding him there firmly. 

"Your Dad's a jackass. And you can't keep holding it all in. If you need to- fucking, I don't know, cry, then do it." 

"My Dad doesn't beat me like yours does okay? It was just one slap." Steve growls harshly, immediately regretting it when Billy's face falls. 

"I'm sorry-" 

Billy scoffs, going for his cigarette. "It's fine." He mumbles, flicking his Zippo to life. 

Steve shakes his head. "No, I'm really sorry. That was an asshole thing to say." 

Billy sighs, taking a deep drag before exhaling a billow of smoke. "S' he always like that?" 

Steve nods slightly, wiping at his eyes. "Yeah. Every time he's around anyway." 

"Why didn't you say something? Not to me but to, I dunno Nancy or whoever." 

Steve shakes his head as if it were obvious. "It's not a big deal. And besides, some people have it worse. It wouldn't be fair to- ...you." 

Billy's demeanour changes instantly to cold and closed off. "I don't want your sympathy Harrington." 

"I know. I just- it's really not a big deal and I feel like, it's just another rich-kid problem that's not as serious as everyone else's. It's fine. I swear." 

Billy drops his mask again and pulls the cigarette out of his mouth. He tosses it out the window and clicks his tongue, leg jumping idly. 

"It is serious. However you wanna spin it, it's serious. Your fucking face is bruised. And you're sitting here like everything's fine."

"You do the same thing!" Steve protests, that petulant cry in his voice. 

Billy grunts impatiently. "Yeah well, maybe I don't want to see you goin through that shit." 

Steve frowns hard at that, too scared to put the pieces together himself. "What?" He mutters softly, head reeling at the sudden softness in Billy's features. He reaches out a tentative hand to touch the boy's hand, shocked that Billy actually lets him hold his wrist. 

"Billy..." 

"Look, I don't know why but I feel..." 

Steve almost breaks a smile. "Yeah?" 

Billy sighs. "I just don't want to see you hurt..." He mutters, purposely ignoring Steve's gaping. 

"Why?" Steve asks, his voice barely above a whisper, sounding disbelieving but hopeful all the same. 

"Cos you're really tiny and stupid and someone's gotta look out for you." 

Steve's unable to hide the peach blush from spreading across his face and all the way down to his neck. Did Billy just admit to being protective of him? Why the hell did that make him want to cry? And why the hell did it make him so hot? He swallows, letting out a nervous chuckle. 

"You saying that you care about me Hargrove?" 

Billy shoots him a pointed glare, huffing childishly. "Maybe. Don't be an asshole." 

Steve bites his lip. "You're telling me not to be an asshole? That's ri-"

His words are silenced by the bruising kiss Billy suddenly plants on his lips, warm hands caressing Steve's face gently, as if he were some kind of delicate flower. His eyes flutter shut, a small whimper in his throat as he falls into the kiss, opening his mouth to make way for Billy's invasive tongue. His insides turn liquid when Billy's hand slides below his jaw to his neck, thumb pressing firmly against his Adam's apple. 

When they break apart, Steve's lips are slightly swollen and glossy with saliva. His eyes are wide and darkened with lust and he's panting slightly, blinking up at Billy who bites down on his lower lip, all sexy and cocky about it. Steve blushes, fidgeting with his fingers nervously. 

"You good?" Billy asks casually, starting back up the Camaro. 

Steve nods shyly. "Yeah. Um, yeah I'm good." 

"Good." Billy replies calmly, "Put your seat belt on." 

Steve obeys dumbly, fixing the belt across his chest before settling into his seat. He glances at Billy's right hand on the stick, itching to hold on to it. Billy simply grins at the road ahead and grabs his hand, intertwining their fingers. 

The radio starts playing Toto's Africa.

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy! SAM_HAINE


End file.
